Off The Table

It is rare for my table to be cleared off.  Takes a large amount of work on my part to get it that way.  You'd think it would take a large amount of work to get it as cluttered as it always is, but really, it seems that that's the easy part.

Baby!  Whatchoo dooin on da table!?
Get yooself off da table!

I'm not talking about the physical table, though.  I know, you're on the edge of your seat, waiting to see where I take this metaphor.  Here's the deal.  Ever since RG was born, I've been flirting with the idea of not finishing my PhD.  I love love love being a Mama.  Were I independently wealthy, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't finish.  I'd stay home and be a Mama and sell things online and make butter and chat with you all on here.  It would be a lovely existence.  However, I'm not independently wealthy.  SURPRISE!  So while living the dream is all well and good, living in dreamland is not.  

Without further ado, I hereby take the Quitting of My PhD off of the metaphorical table.  Similarly to how, when I married Handsome, we took the option of divorce off of the table, I have to totally eliminate this option. Leaving it there, floating around in the back of my mind, would just be straight up torture.  It leaves the option of an easy out, and that's not okay here.  I have to fully commit if I'm going to make this work.  As I've said, I'm not 100% sure that I want to make this work, but there's a bunch of smart people in my life that are all saying that I'll regret it if I don't, and I'm just going to have to trust them on this.  

In case any of you were wondering, I did also take my daughter off of the literal, physical table.  Because we're all about safety first around here.

<3 M.